(edited by Kenji Sato..many thanks!) This is the third in the Fiona series and follows Fiona Betrayed and Fiona's Sanctuary)
Fiona rose from her warm bed with a strong urge to pee. Her 'new to her' dress lay folded on the chair next to her bed. Long-sleeved and reaching to her ankles, it was large enough to easily slip over her head. Fiona had no undergarments... Meg had not supplied any, apparently not thinking it an oversight, as she had none to lend. The dress fit well enough if Fiona belted it around her waist with the woven sash that Meg had supplied.
This morning, she decided to not use the indoor toilet, but flash Bill, as he prepared his breakfast and her tea, by relieving herself in the woods. That would require a nude dash across the open ground from the back of Bill's workshop to the tree line.
Feeling exceedingly naughty, Fiona opened the door and dashed for the wood with a "Good morning, Bill!'' greeting, shouted over her shoulder.
The sudden movement startled Bill out of his early morning grogginess. The sight of the nude, running young woman brought an instant smile to his face. He shouted back, "Well someone is feeling quite a bit more feisty this morning."
The silence was broken only by the sound of a strong stream of urine puddling on the leaf strewn forest floor, followed by,"I guess I haven't planned this so well... what is best to wipe with, oak or maple leaves?"
"Never had to worry about that... I just shake it dry," replied Bill, with a grin on his face.
Fiona returned to the workshop faster than she left it, "Damn, it is fucking cold out here!"
Shortly, she emerged again, this time with the comfy dress supplemented by one of Bill's old sweaters. "Bill, I hope you don't mind, but I thought I needed another layer for warmth.
"Fi, I will do all that is necessary to keep you warm... anything you want, that is."
Per Meg's instructions, Bill added honey to Fiona's tea for the first time. Feeling rested and more energetic, Fiona spent a good deal of that sunny fall day outdoors. Walking about a bit exploring Bill's property; but mostly, sitting on an old Adirondack chair warmed in a blanket near a fire, watching Bill as he constructed the sweat lodge Meg had prescribed.
Meg had given Bill a rough idea of the design, but as she had said herself, she stunk at building things. From his logging work, Bill had some logs that were not good enough for making furniture, but were marginally too good just for firewood. Long and relatively thin, but straight. Bill had held them aside thinking they would make good poles when seasoned for a pole barn.
First though, he needed to prepare the ground. He cleared an area approximately ten feet square of leaves and debris; he thought that he needed to level the ground for the sweat lodge. Finally, he settled upon a dugout fire pit in the center, lined with small river rocks and a raised platform surrounding it. There would be an air space beneath, but he reasoned that would help the air flow and prevent the lodge from overheating. In his internet reading, he came across stories of non-natives succumbing to too hot a sweat lodge.
The walls were simply the pole logs stacked horizontally and notched to interlock at the corners. The gaps were chinked with a mud straw mature mix, similar to that used at Valley Forge. A two foot diameter smoke hole vented the roof and a small crawl through entryway completed the structure. The chinking dried rapidly in the autumn sun, aided by the fire outside and the heated rocks Bill placed in the fire pit.
"I think I'll have it ready tomorrow, Fi. Meg is coming to inspect it and test it out tomorrow evening."
"I can't wait." Fiona exclaimed. "Both you and Meg have done so much for me."
The sun was now low on the horizon, and the autumn chill in the air intensified rapidly. Even the roaring fire could not disguise the change in temperature.
"You'd better get inside; it is getting cold, and you have been outside more today than you have in days."
"Yes Daddy... and you are right, Bill; this day was wonderful being out walking around; but, it also showed how out of shape I am. It's only sunset, and I feel I could sleep 'til noon tomorrow."
"As Meg says... listen to your body"
After her night time tea, Fiona fell into a deep sleep.
And dreamt.
This time, she was not simply a spectator... she was a participant; and to her shock... an instigator!
She was standing watching Tom and Maisey fuck, incredibly turned on by straight sex. Her pussy was dripping wet, and while one hand still held the bottle of whiskey, the other was deep in her pants, stimulating her pussy. Maisey and Tom had captured the attention of all those present. The 'uncle' and the other two men, also stood open-mouthed staring at the 'performance'.
Have we all become voyeurs in this internet age... watchers not doers? she thought.
"Damn... I am drunk, I am stoned, and I am horny!" Fiona blinked... had she actually said all that out loud?
The uncle looked at her... startled, and somewhat worried. His and Maisey's plan had gone so wrong. Far from raping a virgin, he and his buddies were reduced to being voyeurs watching one of their own fuck his co-conspirator... in a rather vigorous fashion, he noted ruefully.
Then this crazed, drugged little woman, marches up to him, stares up at him as she barely reached his chin, and literally spits out her slurred speech covering his face in saliva, "You fu... fu... fuck...ing po... poor ex... excuse... fer, for a rape... RAPIST!
"You... argh... are missing... messing up... me... my fantastic... fantasy!"
The uncle's face reflects a 'what the fuck!'
"You got the tools, you old fffarrt!?"
With that Fiona farts loudly and giggles uncontrollably at the perfect timing.
"Come on SHOW ME!" Fiona is screaming then swallows deeply from the bottle of whiskey.
Some of the whiskey comes out of her nose; but, she is on a mission. She unbuckles the uncle's jeans and removes the belt. Draping the belt behind her neck she kneels and unbuttons and unzips the uncle's jeans. Unlike Tom, the uncle is deeply tanned all over; indeed, his dick appears to be the color of old leather.
"Holy shit... yep, that there is a DICK! YOU FUCKING DEFINITELY HAVE THE TOOLS!"
For a moment, Fiona is speechless. Her mouth open in a drunken stupor... suddenly focused, she snaps, "Well let's get to it, this cunt is NOT opening itself!"
With that, she removes her top and sweatpants; she retains the uncle's belt, which she proceeds to wrap around his neck. As she tightens it, the uncle smiles... somewhat evilly, she thinks—momentarily frightened; the drugs, booze, and lust regain control of Fiona, and she returns the evil look, "You have no idea what demon has been unleashed in me tonight!"
Now it is the uncle's turn to look frightened. Ancestral fears of witchcraft surge in his mind, how else... can this tiny woman be so ferociously confident?
Soon he is naked on the sleeping bag covered floor of the cabin. His clothes and boots gone, a tight belt around his neck nearly choking him, a wild, naked woman on top of him; alternately, violently rubbing his cock and inexpertly sucking his erect cock—her teeth on his dick, normally a turn off, if it were not in keeping with the violent nature of this weirdly twisted event.
